


Lost at Sea

by Kittenly



Series: Halfway to Heaven and Just a Mile Out 'A Hell [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Gen, Pre-Relationship, Snapshot from a slow burn relationship, far harbor spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 20:31:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8259655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittenly/pseuds/Kittenly
Summary: Darling and Valentine need some closure after the shit-storm that was Far Harbor.





	

It was a three day journey back to The Commonwealth from Far Harbor. Not a hard journey, since between Kenji and The Mariner the boat just piloted itself. All me and Valentine had to do was sit tight and not fall overboard.

It was the night of the second day, and Valentine hadn’t spoken a word to me since we left. In fairness I hadn’t had the guts to speak to him either, except to ask him to step off when he tried to treat the radiation burns that coated a good portion of my left arm and neck.

The Courser’s uniform I’d favored on that godforsaken island protected me from most of the blast as the Children of Atom blew themselves into oblivion. The sleeve I’d raised to shield my face from the blast had melted onto my arm, but it even blocked most of the damage to my face.

What had taken the brunt of the explosion burned like it was still on fire--especially whenever saltwater splashed it. It wasn’t nothing a cocktail of chems couldn’t fix, but whenever I thought about letting the pain go I had to shuffle to the side of the boat and let my stomach heave itself dry.

I felt Valentines eyes on me as I stared at the steel colored sea, trying to sum up the will to wipe the tiny bit of bile from my chin. My stomach had long since run out of anything more substantial to hurl. Idly, I ran through everything that happened on Far Harbor again, trying to find any moment where I could have changed it all.

DiMA had been right about one thing--his plan had been the only way we could have achieved peace. Or a temporary peace, I reminded myself. It only took one tiny thing to go wrong before it all came crashing down. And if my life had taught me anything, it was that if something can go wrong, it will.

In the end, I’d convinced DiMA to face the consequences of his actions. He may have been a coward, willing to hide from his guilt as if he’d never done anything wrong, but he faced his execution with dignity.

Valentine hadn’t forgiven me for getting him killed. He hadn’t said anything to me yet, but he was my partner and I knew him. I didn’t blame him. I hadn’t forgiven me for getting DiMA killed.

Through the nausea, a memory came back to haunt me, clear as sunlight.

_It was 2070 and the world was still new. Nate had been deployed, but not too long ago. I was standing in a Federal Judge’s office, my throat raw from shouting. The judge--I don’t remember her name--looked at me evenly._

_“You’re job is to put the bad guys away, Prosecutor,” she said. “You don’t like the consequences, maybe you should look into a different profession.”_

_“Those corporate scumbags need to be put away,” I said, pulling at my hair. “But with the feds reintroducing capital punishment… That’s not justice, your honor.”_

_“You’re a state prosecutor,” the judge said, glaring at me. “You’re an instrument of the government to see that justice is done. And to be honest, no one else scares Corporate Shitbags quite like you. It’s not your job to decide what punishments they might get, you just prove them guilty.”_

_In the end, I took the judges advice, and let my law degree gather dust at the back of the closet._

The memory makes my stomach heave again, but there was nothing left to come up.

“Darling,” said Valentine. I jumped to hear him talk again.

I tried to talk but my mouth was sour and dry. The best I could do was make a grunt of acknowledgement.

“You and me need to have a little talk,” he continued. Synth like him couldn’t cry, but I swore he sounded like he had been.

“Anytime,” I said, forcing the words through my sticky throat. I turned around, slumping against the edge of the boat, and tried to meet his eyes.

He frowned. Without another word, he got up and brought me a carton of purified water. That stupid man--even rage and grief and who the fuck knew what else couldn’t stop him from taking care of others.

“Drink,” he said. “You’re dehydrated.”

He was kind enough not to mention that I was dehydrated because I had been puking my guts out pretty consistently over the past forty hours.

When I’d forced down a few sips, he spoke back up, “You’re a goddamn spy, Darling. I’ve seen you work. What made DiMA different from you? What he did was unacceptable but you’re out in the Commonwealth playing every damn faction for all their worth?”

It was something I’d mulled over since I found out DiMA’s dirty little secret. I didn’t know if Valentine wanted a real explanation or just to be mad at me. I’d hope for the former. Ain’t nothing I could do but whether the storm if it was the latter.

“Even I got lines, Valentine,” I said and held up my hand. It was shaking like I was coming off of Psycho. As I spoke I lifted a finger for each point. “I do my own dirty work. I don’t lie to myself. And I live with my damn mistakes so I don’t make ‘em again.” 

Valentine was quiet for a while, and I was starting to worry I said something wrong. Finally he let out a deep sigh.

“I just,” he started and trailed off. “I just don’t think I’ve ever hurt quite like this.” Our eyes met, and for little bulbs of light, they contained a whole person of feelings. It made my heart hurt.

“Even thinking about Jenny, and the old Nick,” he continued. “It’s mostly just flashes. Nothing like this.”

I nodded. I didn’t know if he’d want me sharing his pain, but goddamn, I knew what he was talking about.

“He was just there,” Valentine said, the words now pouring out of him like a dam had broken. “Suddenly, I had family. A brother. And then--” his voice hitched.

“He’s gone,” I finished softly.

“Well first he turns out to be some kind of monster.”

“Not a monster,” I said. I knew too well what monsters felt like, and for all his faults, DiMA wasn’t one. “A desperate man. A cowardly one. But he wasn’t evil.”

“Maybe it would be easier if he had been,” Valentine said.

“Trust me, it doesn’t help.”

Valentine looked at me with a start. I avoided his eyes, regretting I’d said anything and hugged my knees. After a moment, he let out a long low whistle and joined me with my back against the edge of the boat.

“I hadn’t even thought of that,” he said.

“Don’t blame you,” I said. “You’ve had a lot on your plate.”

“Darling,” he began. I cut him off.

“Don’t, Valentine. You don’t need to say anything.”

“When has that ever stopped me?” he said. It got a chuckle out from me, I’ll admit. “I’m sorry, is all.”

“Yeah,” I said, choked up. “Me too.”

I wanted to lean against him like I sometimes did, but I felt intrusive. Maybe he sensed what I was thinking though, because he shifted closer and then I was pressed up against his side. We sat there for sometime before I finally managed to speak up again.

“Do you hate me, Valentine?” I asked. “‘Cause I don’t blame you if you do. I hate me something fierce right now.”

Valentine was silent, but he wiggled so he could wrap his whole arm around me. That was pretty demonstrative for him. I couldn’t complain though. He was warm.

“No,” he said finally. “I feel. Something. I was mad at you, maybe still am a little. But… if seeing what your little boy became hurts half as much as this…” At the mention of Shaun the floods came. Tears stung the burn on my cheeks but I didn’t wipe them away. Valentine might notice. “Then I know you get it. And that's what'll make it okay in the end.”

He didn’t elaborate further. Eventually he looked up at me.

“Darling. You’re crying.”

“There’s just salt water on my face.”

“Yeah, those are also known as tears,” Valentine said. He handed me a clean-ish handkerchief from one of his pockets. I felt suddenly like one of the weepy damsels in an old noir. I dabbed at my face, though even the soft cloth hurt against the burns.

We sat there in silence until the moon started setting and the dawn light was just edging over the horizon.

“Does it ever get better?” Valentine asked, so soft I wondered if I imagined it.

“Not really,” I said. “But you get better at carrying it. You find people who help lighten the load a little.”

“Glad I got you then,” Valentine said. “It helps to know that someone else gets it.”

“I’ll be your partner for as long as you’ll have me,” I said.

Valentine squeezed me gently. “About that, I was thinking about getting a new sign for the agency. What do you think of, ‘Valentine and Darling Investigations’?”

“S’long as we keep your tacky little arrow-through-the-heart, sounds great to me.”

* * *

 

I must have drifted off, because the next thing I remember was Valentine saying my name and getting to his feet with an awful squealing. The salt water couldn’t be good for his joints. I made a mental note to scrounge up some oil for him later.

“We’re here,” he said. I struggled to my feet, groaning and trying to stretch out the stiffness out of my limbs. Kenji’s dock was just coming into view through the morning fog.

I stood close to him on the bow of the little boat, not sure what would happen when we stepped off. I could still feel the gloom hanging on Valentine, and I worried that once he wasn’t trapped near me he’d disappear.

We bumped up against the dock. As he was about to step off when I grabbed his arm.

“Valentine,” I said. He turned and looked at me. “Are we gonna be okay? You and me, I mean.”

He frowned and said, “I guess I hoped that snuggling all night would soothe your concerns.”

“I don’t snuggle,” I said, feeling a pout pull at my lips.

“Sure you don’t,” he said.

“You were warm. It was cold on the boat. That was just...efficient.” Sweet Jesus, I was terrible at lying to him.

“You can keep telling yourself that, Darling.”

If he felt good enough to tease me, then maybe we would be okay. I skipped off the boat after him. Just because one case was closed didn’t mean there weren't a million more waiting back in our office.


End file.
